


Not the Planet, Not Spinning

by sareli



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s05e03 Free to Be You and Me, First Time, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28936653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sareli/pseuds/sareli
Summary: When Dean had made that stupid little pledge not to let Cas die a virgin, he hadn't meant to end up like this, lying on his back on a rotting wooden floor, staring up at the ceiling in the eerie bluish half-light of witching hour.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 117





	Not the Planet, Not Spinning

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are again, I am not immune to deancas, time is a flat circle etc. etc. and this is how it all decided to manifest bc I was 11 when this episode aired and 13 when I watched it for the first time so forgive me for waiting a whole ass decade to write this lmfao

When Dean had made that stupid little pledge not to let Cas die a virgin, he hadn't meant to end up like this, lying on his back on a rotting wooden floor, staring up at the ceiling in the eerie bluish half-light of witching hour.

It was supposed to go a little like: take him to the brothel and let a professional show him how it was done. Then it had been see if anyone at the bar catches your eye, Cas, c'mon. Then it was okay, fine, we'll go back to the house and don't even try to get you a good time, but you can't blame a guy for trying.

Instead it goes like this: the two of them, sitting just barely shoulder-to-shoulder with their backs against the wall, watching the spot where they were going to put the angel-trap before leaving in the morning like Cas' demise was going to materialize right there and then.

Cas was saying something in that low rumble of his, and Dean turned to look. Cas gave him a look, then, the barest hint of a wry little half-smile, something almost mischievous glinting in his weird, glassy alien-eyes. He was joking. Like, actually telling a joke. And something about the thought of Disgraced Angel of the Lord Castiel, Former Messenger of God and Soldier of Heaven and Current Friend of Dean Winchester sitting there trying to tell him a _joke_ made Dean want to scrape up the whole entire world and hand it right over.

Maybe that's why Dean had gotten hung up on the whole virgin thing. Dean had never bought into the illusion of the inexplicable, earth-shakeable inherent Meaning of sex as a pinnacle of human experience or whatever, but if nothing else, it was _fun._ Maybe one of the most fun things on offer as far as humanity goes.

So, the whole world was out as a death-day gift, but Dean could at least try to get him to have a little fun for his troubles.

And then, Dean had a totally awesome, actually terrible idea.

And then he was leaning in, watching Cas' eyes as Cas watched his right back.

Cas had accepted the first kiss with—well, with grace if you could believe it—holding himself stone-still but somehow wide open, letting Dean into his space. He had caught on just a beat later, parting his lips tentatively under Dean's and sighing into his mouth.

It had been everything Dean's usual first overtures to sex never were, gentle and soft and tender in a way that almost ached, compelling Dean to brush the tips of his fingers against Cas' jaw and hold them there, feather-light.

They kissed for what felt like close to an hour after that, Cas clearly taking in the sensation in extensive detail, and Dean was happy to let him. It felt good, kissing Cas. He took to it surprisingly quickly, all things considered. It was slow and careful, but thorough, like neither of them wanted to give up a second more of it than they had to.

At some point, Dean pulled Cas into his lap, and Cas settled over his hips like he belonged there, and just kept kissing and kissing, never missing a beat.

As far as Dean could tell, together they had awakened a hunger in Cas that was, in itself, delicious to witness. From there, things got more hurried, less careful, less considered as the edges of the room heated and blurred around them. Dean gave himself over to the wet slide of Cas' open mouth against his, and then the warmth between Cas’ thighs, and then the weight of him rocking against Dean’s hips, and then finally the tight heat inside Cas’ body.

When Cas came, Dean could feel it seize his body like a lightning strike, muscles going rigid. Dean had half expected him to arch his back and turn his face up to the heavens or something, but instead he curled over himself to shudder against Dean, mouth falling open and skull falling forward to knock against Dean's forehead. And in that way that never, ever happens, Dean followed him right over that edge, clinging to him, digging the tips of his fingers into the exposed skin over Cas' hipbones as he thrust up and into him, making them both cry out.

Once it was over, they rolled apart and settled boneless against each other right there on the floor. Normally, Dean would have knocked right out after something like that, but here Dean found himself, flat on his back pressed side-to-side, skin-to-skin against Castiel in an unbroken line from shoulder to hip to knee, staring up at the ceiling, wide-awake.

"Is it always like this?" Cas asked quietly, just after, still breathless.

Dean shivered, which was definitely 100% a reaction to the feeling of his own sweat cooling from his body in the night air and not even remotely anything else.

 _Absolutely not_ , he wanted to say back, because it's never like this, it's not supposed to make you think you could feel the Earth move, it's not supposed to make your guts feel like they've been scooped out with a rusty melon-baller.

It's supposed to make you want to move out of the pool of your own sweat as soon as possible, not lie there in it, stewing. It's supposed to melt thoughtlessly away from your body as soon as the deed is done, taking the tensions that are crisscrossed all over you with it for a while. It's supposed to put you to sleep, knock you out, and you're not supposed to be afraid of what happens in the morning.

"No, not… not always," he said finally.

Cas turned his head, laying his cheek against the floor as he looked at Dean.

"Was that… was it good?"

Something began looming in the pit of Dean's stomach, heavy and strong and terrifying in a way completely unlike any monster he had ever faced down before or ever would again. He did not know what it was. He did not want to find out.

"Yeah," was all he said. "Yeah, it was."

**Author's Note:**

> ugh i find writing sex exhausting and for once i found i literally could not get around it this time! so anyways hope u enjoyed xoxo


End file.
